Chocolate
by RussianWolf7
Summary: Bobby/Alex silly Christmas fluff. Need I say more?


They were a last minute present, certainly nothing planned. I was at the mall with Olivia and it was her idea to go into Spencer's. I raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything; asking about her sex life with Elliot was never a good idea. She dragged me over to the sex toys section and began browsing, occasionally asking my opinion.

"Do you think he'd like handcuffs?"

"Doesn't he already have a pair?" I asked, eyeing the pink fuzzy handcuffs.

Olivia smiled and her eyes became unfocused, remembering something I didn't want to know. "He certainly does."

I rolled my eyes. "What about…" I scanned the shelves. "A candy thong?"

She picked up the box an examined it. "I think it's too small." She put it back down again. "And there's no way the candy bra would fit me."

We continued our search, considering and rejecting a new vibrator—Elliot kept her quite busy, thank you very much—a naughty kit—they already had most of what was in it—and flavored condoms—been there, done that.

I glanced at my watch. "Liv, it's getting late, and I promised Bobby I'd be home by six. He's cooking."

"Lucky you," she said, laughing. "The one time Elliot cooked, I nearly had to call the fire department." She suddenly reached out and grabbed something. "Chocolate body paint. Perfect." She headed for the register, but stopped and glanced over her shoulder when she saw I wasn't following. "Alex? You coming?"

Chocolate body paint. I picked up the package, curious. _Adult!_ the box screamed. _Chocolate Fantasy Body Finger Paints! Four delicious chocolate flavors! Let your fingers do the talking!_ It was interesting, to say the least. And Bobby was always doing something with his hands. Smiling to myself, I walked over to Olivia and followed her to the register.

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "I knew there was some hidden kink in you somewhere."

I blushed, keeping my eyes down. "Shut up, will you?" We paid for the paints in silence, and walked out of the store together. "I really should get going," I said.

Olivia pulled me into a quick hug. "Merry Christmas! And have fun!"

I shot her a death look. "You too."

-----

When I got home, our apartment smelled amazing. Homemade tomato sauce simmered on the stove, pasta was being rolled out and something that I couldn't see was baking in the oven.

"Hey," Bobby said, giving me a quick kiss. "Did you and Olivia have fun shopping?"

"Yup," I said, standing on my tiptoes for another, longer kiss. "I need to go wrap presents, so don't come in the bedroom."

"I couldn't leave the kitchen even if I wanted to," he said, gesturing with the wooden spoon he was holding.

"Smells wonderful," I said before disappearing into the bedroom. I put my bags down on the bed and started rummaging through the closet, looking for the presents I had stashed a few weeks ago. Hiding presents with Bobby in the house was nearly impossible, but I had eventually found a solution—shoe boxes. He never looked in my shoe boxes, or asked about my clothes at all, beyond an occasional compliment on a new sweater or dress. I thought it was cute, that a man who spent so much on a suit and spent so much of his time looking at every little detail wouldn't notice the slowly growing pile of shoe boxes on our closet floor, especially near the holidays.

I studied the pile of boxes. Not all of them were presents, not even close. There were the decoys, empty boxes, ones that had shoes I actually wore. After much debate, I selected a Gucci box from the bottom right, a Sketchers box from the middle and an old Converse box that was on its last legs from way, way in the back. Armed with the boxes and the new bags, I began to wrap, saving the body paint for last. I still hadn't made up my mind whether I was going to give it to him or not, and I was putting off the decision as long as possible. But eventually everything else was wrapped, and I was left with just the paints.

There was a knock on the door, and I quickly hid them in an empty bag. "Yeah, come in."

Bobby stuck his head in the door. There was a streak of flour on his left cheek, and I was sure he didn't know it was there. I smiled to myself; he was so adorable when he cooked. There was something about cooking that made him let his guard down, let me see the boy he used to be. "Dinner's almost ready," he said, surveying the pile of gifts. "Are those all for me?"

I laughed. "Don't be silly. They're for you, my brother, your brother, my parents, your mom, Joe's parents, Olivia and Elliot, the captain and the salvation army."

"That's a lot of gifts."

"No peeking." I got up and went over to him. "You've got flour on your cheek, hon." Instead of wiping it off, I leaned up and kissed his cheek, gently licking the flour away. He closed his eyes and hummed in the back of his throat, and I knew that the paints had been a good idea. "Now go away," I said, pushing him out of the room. "I still have one more to wrap."

-----

Dinner was, needless to say, amazing. Bobby was a fantastic cook, one of the few things his mother had taught him. He had gotten out the good china and the candles, and we turned off the lights and ate by candlelight. He held my hand as we ate, letting it go only to refill our wine glasses. He made everything, from the sauce to the pasta to the Yule log that had been hiding in the oven when I got home. I was proud of so many things about him, but his cooking was our secret, something that nobody could use against him.

He was oddly traditional about Christmas, and after dinner we watched Miracle on 34th Street, like we had every Christmas for the past three years. The movie didn't hold my attention anymore, but watching Bobby was more than worth it. He was so calm, so happy and relaxed, and it wasn't very often that I got to see him like this. There was always a case, always his mother, always his brother. But Christmas was our time, and nothing was allowed to interrupt us.

We went to bed after the movie, and I fell asleep wrapped in his arms.

-----

I woke up to him kissing me. I smiled into his mouth and started to kiss him back, moving closer to him as his hand started to slide over my body. He almost had my shirt off when I remembered his present, and that we should wait.

I pulled away, kissing his nose. "Presents first?"

He hid his disappointment well. "How old are we, Alex? Four? Five?"

I stuck my tongue out at him and got out of bed, holding my hand out to him. "Come on. There'll be plenty of time for that later."

He took my hand, twining his fingers in mine as I led him to the Christmas tree. There was a small drift of presents from me, the paints hidden in the back so he'd be sure to open them last. A lone present rested next to mine, wrapped in silver paper with a small card resting against it. I looked at him, curious, and he just shrugged.

I sat down in front of the tree and he sat next to me, wrapping an arm around me and handing me his present. I opened the card first, and smiled. It had a snowman on it, complete with carrot nose and top hat. He was waving at me, and a speech bubble proclaimed_ Merry Christmas!_ in sparkly green letters. The inside had a small heart with my name written under it.

"Merry Christmas," Bobby said, kissing the top of my head. "I love you."

I looked at him, surprised. In our three and a half years together, he hardly ever said he loved me. I knew it was true, and I knew how much he thought about everything he said, and how he didn't feel the need to remind me of things he already said, but it still touched me when he did say it.

"I love you too," I said, and started unwrapping the gift. Inside the paper was a small, dark blue box, and my heart stopped. "Bobby, I—"

"Open it," he said softly, his voice both soothing and making every hair on my body stand up.

My hands were shaking, and I wasn't sure if I trusted myself to speak. "I—"

He took it from me, gently extracting it from the death grip I had on it. He opened the box himself, and even though I was expecting it, I could hardly believe what I saw. A ring rested on a white silk bed, three tiny rubies on either side of a pear-shaped diamond. "Alexandra Eames, will you marry me?"

"I—uh—yes, Bobby, of course," I stammered, trying to find my voice. He took the ring out and slid it on my still shaking finger. He leaned down and kissed me, once, gently, filled with love.

"I love you, Alex, and I always will."

"Same here," I said, still in shock.

He smiled at me, seemingly amused by my surprise. "So, do I get to open my presents now?"

I shook myself, and handed him his first gift. I barely paid attention to his reaction, unable to think of anything except the ring on my finger and the man beside me. I started to smile as it sunk in, really sunk in, that I was going to marry Robert Goren. He fawned over the new Armani shirt I got him, even though it was really a replacement for one I had ruined a few months ago, and I needed to remove the illustrated history of the Mayans from his hands before he lost himself in it for the rest of the day. There were two CDs, one classical, one world music, and another book, this one a course in advanced Mandarin. Eventually there was only one left, and he was halfway through unwrapping it when I remembered what it was.

"That one, um, is sort of…well…" I trailed off as he removed the rest of the wrapping paper. His eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at me before examining it more closely. "Olivia and I were…um…"

His face was unreadable, like always. Just when I thought he hated it and wouldn't ever look at me the same way, he grinned, a wicked, sexy grin that I hadn't seen before. "I can see why you wanted to wait," he said. "Are there any more presents left, or can I have my way with you?"

I flushed. "I'm ready if you are."

Bobby stood up and instead of offering me a hand like I was expecting, he leaned down and scooped me up in his arms.

"Bobby!" I shrieked, half in surprise, half in delight. "Bobby, what do you think you're doing?"

He was still grinning, and he said, "What does it look like? Carrying you into the bedroom."

This was a new Bobby, and I was loving it. He was usually quiet and gentle, and this loud, overly confidant man seemed like fun. "You're ridiculous," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and enjoying the ride. He set me down gently and started kissing me, touching me, undressing me. I lay back, naked, and smiled at him.

Bobby made quick work of the packaging, and laid out the four containers of chocolate on the bed next to me. "Strawberry, mocha, raspberry and almond," he said, announcing the flavors as he put them down. "Hmm…" He picked up the strawberry paint, dipped his finger in it, and made a line from my belly button up to right below my breasts. "It's pink," he said, and that was when I first thought this might not be a good idea. He didn't say it with his sexy voice, or his confused voice, but his considering voice, the one he used when he was thinking particularly hard about something. He licked his finger, cleaning it, and screwed the top back on the strawberry and set it down. "I wonder…"

I lay still as he opened the other ones, making parallel lines on my body with each color. The strawberry was a bright, happy pink, the mocha a medium chocolate brown, the raspberry a darker, rich pink and the almond a light tan. He cleaned his finger carefully between each color, and while I thought it probably should've been sexy, it was more worrying than anything else.

"Bobby, these are supposed to be fun," I said warily.

"I know," he said, and fell into silence. He picked up the strawberry and dabbed a little on my chest, above and between my breasts, picked up the raspberry, and mixed a little with the strawberry. It created a beautiful color, but I wasn't interested in it beyond wondering how it would feel when he licked it off of me.

"I'm not here for a color lesson," I muttered, knowing he wasn't listening to me.

"I'll be right back," he said, and left.

I sighed, and dipped my finger into the raspberry paint. I licked it off my finger myself, wondering how it tasted. Not bad, not great. I sampled the rest, waiting for Bobby to return. He did, eventually, and when I saw what he was carrying, I sat up in a hurry. "Wait, what are you doing?"

He looked at me, surprised. "Just getting things I might need. Bowls for mixing colors, pastry brushes, food coloring, some decorations. Why?"

"Oh, no," I said, eyeing his materials. "No, no, no. These paints are for quick application, and immediate removal, not for works of art."

Bobby smiled at me. "I know that. Now lie down."

His smile weakened my resolve and even though I didn't completely trust him, I did as he said.

"Now don't move."

-----

He let me have a bathroom break partway through, and he made me a sandwich around lunch time, which he cut into bite sized pieces and fed me so I wouldn't ruin anything. I wasn't allowed to read because he needed my arms free, and the TV was in the other room. He put on first one, and then the other CD I got him, and when those were over he let it stay quiet. I tried complaining, bargaining, begging for my freedom, but all I got in return was a smile and a, "Be patient, Alex."

It was starting to get dark by the time he was done. He helped me stand, and very carefully led me over to the full length mirror on our closet door, making sure that I didn't ruin any of his art. He stood in front of me, blocking my view of the mirror.

"Move, would you?" I said crankily. Needless to say, this was not how I had anticipated spending Christmas day.

He frowned at me. "Close your eyes, I need to fix something." I did as he said, knowing that protesting would only make it take longer. I felt a finger trailed down my side, and then it was gone. "Okay, you can look."

I opened my eyes and gasped. I had no idea how he did it, but he had transformed me into a goddess. I was covered head to foot in chocolate and homemade, hand dyed icing in every color imaginable. There were vines climbing up my legs, trees where my stomach had been, birds flying across my breasts. My face was a night sky, dark blue and filled with stars.

"Bobby, I…I don't know what to say."

He smiled hugely, and in that moment it was worth it. "Come back to bed. I need to clean you off."

The End.

3


End file.
